


Dancing with a Dreamer

by Lynx12232



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx12232/pseuds/Lynx12232
Summary: Ronan Lynch was not approachable, not if you were a human. But Adam, a magician, took different turns than the regular man, and he knew the very complicated, containing many turns and dead ends, way to approach Ronan Lynch. It was his private road, approved by the dreamer himself.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Dancing with a Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

> My first work containing sex, so, be gentle. Also english is my second language, but you can roast me on this one. Any advice and mistakes pointing welcome!

Adam searched the dim room with his eyes. He spotted Ronan, deep in shadow, all sharp and wary. He casually leaned against the wall of the club, hands in pockets and eyes closed. His features were not tensed, but he still appeared dangerous, knife sharp, meaning a very freshly sharpened knife. Ronan Lynch was not approachable, his figure like a painting. You could watch, but it didn't feel real, Adam had seen truer painting figures than Ronan. Ronan the dreamer. But Adam though not dreamt, was his dream. And he knew.  
Ronan Lynch was not approachable, not if you were a human. But Adam, a magician, took different turns than the regular man, and he knew the very complicated, containing many turns and dead ends, way to approach Ronan Lynch. It was his private road, approved by the dreamer himself.  
Adam pushed himself through the crowd of dancing bodies. The music in this place was mesmerising, not regular club nutes, it was going straight to your heart, adjusting its beat to the rhythm. Syncing with your soul. He wanted to dance. And something you must now about Adam Parrish is that Adam Parrish does not dance. He wanted to dance with his dreamer. As he stood in front of Ronan, the latter didn’t even open his eyes, he just reached for Adam sensing his presence. He took his hands and pulled him closer. Adam wanted to be closer, but on the dance floor. He pulled them the opposite. Ronan opened his eyes, slight surprise in them. Adam Parrish didn't dance, what did he want on the dance floor? That must have been his question. Adam pulled them still, till they were well surrounded by sweaty bodies, moving in the rhythm their hearts beaten. He laid his hands on Ronans hips and he looked in his eyes. Deep, he wanted Ronan's full attention, he wanted to be the only one he was looking at in the crowd, he wanted those shark eyes to drill a hole in him. He wanted Ronan. Adam's eyelids fell shut and he started to move. Swell his hips, roll his head, trying to stir the Dream King in front of him. And finally he did, he shivered, got closer to Adam, and held him by the waist. Like that their hands were in each other's way, so Adam threw them on Ronans shoulders. Ronan kissed him, hungry, their tongues danced along with their bodies. They breathed each other, swallowed each other, cherished each other. And they danced, danced, danced. Tangled so close they were like a one being. Hands on one another, exploring, though everything was already explored. They knew each corner of the other, yet every time felt like they discovered new land. Land of wonder and love.  
Ronan started to push them out of the crowd. Holding Adam by the waist lightly, just to make sure he didn't lose him, make sure he was going the direction Ronan wanted him to. Persistent but thoughtful. When they were out they breathed, surprised they were out of breath, back there it was hard to feel anything so mundane. Ronan pushed Adam on the wall, or rather layed him softly against the wall, and kissed him again. He cupped his cheeks, moved his lips against Adam's like a hot, dense rain cloud. Conveying love along with lust. No one else in the world made Adam feel so wanted. And no one in the world made Adam want so badly.  
"Fuck I love you, so, so, so much" Ronan mutered against Adams skin, draging his bottom lip along his neck.  
Love was their poison, love was their energy. It was what drove them crazy and what kept them going.  
Ronan's hands slipped under Adam's t-shirt, big and rough against his ribs, fingers on nipples. Then Adam knew it was time to take things elsewhere.  
"Bathroom" He breathed as he stopped their kiss.  
"Adam Parrish wants to do me in the club shitroom." Ronan smiled, filthy and amused."That's hot."  
"I'm glad we are assuming I'm gonna be doing the doing" Adam retorted, and ripped himself from the wall.  
He headed for the restrooms, and Ronan followed, his gaze a mix of adornment and bemusement. Something you wouldn't assume goes together, just like all the parts of Ronan Lynch.  
They couldn't hold themselves apart long enough to reach the cabin, so by the time they pushed the door open, they were clung to each other again. Hands on ass, lips on skin. Everything getting rougher with each passing second. Ronan pushed against the wall. Ronan reached for Adams belt, undid it, reached for the button of his jeans, undid it, reached for the zipper. Both their pants were gone before they could know it.  
"I want it off too," Adam tugged Ronans tank as he half begged.  
Ronan took off his tank. And then took off Adam's t-shirt. It might have not been convenient, being so naked in a bathroom. This kind of sex rather assosiated with only your pants rolled down to your knees, the only nakadnes the one that was nessescery. But they both loved the feel of skin to skin, they wanted it real, full, squeezed off all the potential. Love was their poison, so they ached it, in everything.  
Adam took Ronan in his hand, stroked him with a purpose of a tease and the way he moaned and the way he pushed his hips was a sign Adam did a good job of that. When his hand left, Ronan got frustrated, desperate, wanting Adam so badly the latter felt it in every cell of his body. Adam grabbed his hips and turned him around, his face squeezed against the cold tails, then traced the line of his spine with a finger. Traced every curve of Ronan’s tattoo, though he had it memorized by now, knew his way around it, would have recreated it blind. He went to sleep with the image of the inked, beautiful backs.  
“Fuck, Adam” Ronan gasped, blowing on the wall, little steam setteling next to his reddend lips.  
His eyes were shut, hands on the wall helping him keep steady. Adam placed a slimy kiss on the nape of his neck, right on a sticking out spine bone. Pushed his hand down his back, smoothed the skin of his ass, and delicately pushed his finger in. He pulled it out, and pushed it back, pulled it out and pushed it back. And Ronan gasped, clenched his fists, arched his back. As Adam’s finger was working his way in, he was kissing Ronan’s back, neck, he sucked on his ear and breathed into it.  
“Can I get a yes? Or a please?”  
“Fuck you, fuck you Adam.” Ronan barely got out of himself. He was driven mad, crazy with want. So was Adam, och he was, but Ronan was always true with everything. He never lied, nor did his body. Adam’s had more restraints.  
“No, fuck you, Ronan, may I?”  
And Ronan turned around abruptly, like a hurricane that he was. He pinned his fingers in the skin of Adam’s waist, pulled him in. And kissed him. Adam grabbed his legs, brought them up, to his chest, and pushed into him, so hard Ronan had to steady himself on Adam’s shoulders. And Adam pushed, pushed and pushed, remembering the way he got Ronan screaming his name. And he did. But Adam pulled out, his knees weak, but he tried not to stumble as he got down in front of Ronan. Like a knight got down in front of his king, like a believer got down in front of his god, praying. Adam prayed in front of his god, the only one he believed in. He took Ronan in his mouth, his way of showing devotion. Followed his length with his lips, pushing all the way down, licking. Ronan got unsteady, so he grabbed his leg behind the knee and threw it on his shoulder. Ronan buried his hands in Adam’s hair, running them through, pulling. And the sounds he made, they were no screams, they were a hundred times better that screams. Soft moans, coming deep from his throat growls. He tried to push his lips together to lock them in, but failed miserably with every try.  
As Adam felt Ronan come close, he realised him, a thread of slime still connecting them. He looked up at Ronan, and Ronan looked back at him. The dreamers face relaxed, flushed, lips parted, and Adam took in the sight for a moment, until he could no longer stand, until it tagged his so badly he got up and pushed into him again, leaning all of himself on him, closing all the distance between them, sucking all the air away. Ronan held him by the back of his neck, fingers digging into skin. He begged, cursed and moand, until he got quiet and exploded onto Adam’s stomach. It took Adam barely a second later, until he filled Ronan, whispering his name into his ear.  
They breathed on each other, heavy, unable to part. Unable to be apart again, not being able to imagine what they are like without one another’s skin on the one’s skin. Adam opened his eyes first, unburied his hot face from the crook of Ronan’s neck. He looked at him, at his love, his friend, his lover, and he thought of how there was time once he hadn’t known him. And how there was time where he had known him, but didn’t desire him. He thought of how impossible that felt. How he couldn’t remember his thoughts from then. How strange the person he was then seemed to him. How happy he felt he no longer was that person.


End file.
